Page 28 of The Dark Will Fall (Twilight Lake #5)
Elsbeth Shadowhock
Elsbeth stood on the balcony of her room and watched her brother disappear through the Reeds.
A deep pain radiated from her chest. Something inside told her that it would be the last time she saw her brother in their home. Though she hoped it was her paranoia, getting the better of her.
She held her hands together and whispered a quick prayer to Belisama—praying Tormalugh would return home safely.
Tempers were fraught. The water had grown warmer, and Kelpies returning from fishing the reef reported the coral bleached in several places. Fish were dying in droves.
Then the missive had arrived.
Tarsainn had been attacked.
Her brother rushed off as he always did, stalwartly taking the mantle of soldier and hero. The king who always seemed to forget he was king.
Elsbeth leaned on the balcony, feeling the rough stone against her elbows as she watched the courtyard below. She sighed as she heard a knock on the door. Her brother had not been gone more than a minute, but she wouldn’t get any rest.
Elsbeth opened the door and found a young maid, her eyes cast down and her face expressionless.
“The outsiders have requested an audience, your majesty.” The maid bowed her head. “Would you like me to prepare your breakfast or facilitate the meeting?”
Elsbeth ground her teeth at the thought of meeting Rian Swiftgait, the entirely pompous leader of the new additions.
“Why not both?” She smiled brightly, locking her annoyance behind an iron-clad shield.
Her jovial nature was not the Kelpie way of things, but Elsbeth preferred to subvert expectations.
It was easier to hide negative emotions behind a bright smile. Smiles made Kelpies uncomfortable enough to cut most interactions short.
As expected, the maid stepped back as if Elsbeth’s smile was contagious. “I’ll tell the servers you are to take breakfast in the parlor, your majesty.” The maid kept her eyes downcast.
Elsbeth dipped her head in appreciation instead. Fae did not say thank you, though the Wild Fae were not held to the same honesty bond that cursed the Sídhe.
The parlor was located next to Elsbeth’s private suite, connected by a door only she could open.
She changed clothes quickly, choosing a dress in gauzy black fabric that covered her throat and wrists, leaving only her face exposed.
Kelpies tended towards modest fashion, and as the youngest member of the royal family, she didn’t choose her own clothing as much as she wanted to.
Elsbeth never gave much thought to her surroundings, beyond the etiquette lessons her mother had drilled into her.
She knew how to dress appropriately, how to welcome dignitaries from other creeds. She knew how to be funny, without being insulting. Witty, without condescension. She was a Kelpie princess, and she held the magic of her name. A Shadowhock, by blood and nature.
As expected, the ‘outsiders’, as the residents of the Reeds had coined them, did not attend the breakfast. Instead, their leader, Rian Swiftgait, walked through the door of the parlor as if he owned every inch of the castle.
His emotions were beyond a mental wall of obsidian so thick that Elsbeth couldn’t help but admire it.
She had the best tutors. The best shadowalkers, shielders, and empaths to teach her—but Swiftgait had years of experience.
She saw it on every inch of his face, from the scar on his cheeks from the enchanted bridle to the magic that slipped his tight leash—reaching for her when he thought she wasn’t looking.
Elsbeth sat, gripping the stem of her cup.
The bubble charm on the lip stopped the liquid from flowing, and though it was too early for alcohol, the hibiscus tea from the Day Court gave the illusion of wine.
She slipped her tea and smacked her lips, feeling a small tendril of pleasure when his lip curled in distaste.
Rian Swiftgait did not sit. His hands knitted together, his shoulders squared as he affected a soldier’s stance.
When the silence became oppressive, Elsbeth cleared her throat and met his dark eyes.
“You wanted to see me?” Her brows lifted innocently.
“We need to fortify the wall.” Rian declared, fists clenched. “...Your majesty.”
She squinted. “Mr Swiftgait, can you sit down a moment? I won’t bite.”
“I’d rather stand.” His expression was impassive.
Elsbeth sighed and put down her glass. “What do you know of the wall? The Reeds, from which the city owes its name.”
Rian’s gaze flicked to the window.
“I cannot take your advice if I do not understand the experience behind it.” Elsbeth folded her hands on her lap.
“Tormalugh holds you in high regard, though I suspect it’s because you did not kill him on your journey from the Dark King’s castle.
I do not know the ways of the Kelpies across the Night Court.
Those of the Reeds believed we were the last of our kind. ”
Rian sucked his teeth and stepped forward, the movements stiff and uncomfortable despite his lack of armor. The Kelpie chose a seat in view of the door, but a world away from the head of the table.
“Have some breakfast.” Elsbeth urged, relying on her mother’s lessons to pierce the discomfort she felt.
The male Kelpie ignored her request. His back ramrod straight, as he gathered his thoughts.
“I served the Night King for many years. I have raced before many Sídhe kings and queens from various courts. The only indication that time had passed was the change of monarchs in the stands.” Rian looked down at the empty place setting in front of him.
“The King would add another Kelpie to the stable when he found one, but our herd remained the same. We raced when we heard the horns, and we lived on four legs. Many of my herd do not remember how to switch forms. Many don’t want to. ”
Elsbeth felt her tea turn sour on her tongue.
The outsiders had remained in their equine forms, and she hadn’t given it much thought. Many of her subjects preferred four legs to two. The fact that her guests felt so uncomfortable that they could not change forms made her feel sick to her stomach.
Rian continued. “Our herd was divided many years ago. Some wanted to escape the Dark King and find their own place to call home. Others believed that our carnivorous nature meant we would never find safety outside of the King’s protection.”
“You chose to stay?” Her voice was weak.
Rian Swiftgait shook his head. “I needed to protect them. Those that stayed. They had experienced so much prejudice that even shackles felt like the better option. I assumed those who tried to escape were executed. The Dark King told us so.”
“Were they?” She asked.
Rian Swiftgait laughed bitterly. “I knew your ancestor. Torin Shadowhock. Your very presence means he escaped.”
Elsbeth laughed without meaning to. “You’re very old. The Reeds have been around for over a millennium. The Mad Queen gave her protection, and we have flourished ever since.”
“Your people are hidden behind an enchanted wall.” Rian pointed out, his emotions well hidden.
Elsbeth prickled. “We used to have villages, extending as far as the coral fields and trenches.”
“What happened to them?” He asked blithely.
Her mother’s face flashed before her eyes. “The Undine poisoned our creed, those they could reach. King Irvine took the throne, and war broke out. Every creed is against another. Enemies and allies change day by day.”
Rian’s dark brow arched. “Perhaps my herd would have been safer in Midnight.”
“Racing for the king?” Elsbeth bit out defensively.
“Am I to kiss your feet, for a chance to fight for you instead of race for him?” Rian curled his lip.
Her cheeks warmed.
“You’re a—” Elsbeth bit back the insult, her fists clenching. She shook her head to clear it. “King Irvine is dead. Too many of our creed have fought in the trenches. Too many of our innocents have died at the hands of our enemies. The Kelpies have made peace with the Selkies, Nymphs, and the Mer.”
“But not the Undine?” His eyes narrowed as he leaned forward in his chair.
Elsbeth felt her lips peel away from her teeth, of their own volition.
“Where has your brother gone?” Rian Swiftgait asked.
“Tarsainn. The city of the Mer. They have called for aid.” She said through gritted teeth.
“And he has left his creed behind?” Rian cocked his head to the side. “To come to the aid of the Cursed Ones?”
“To come to the aid of his friends. His allies.” She corrected.
“Who rules the Undine now?” Rian pressed.
Elsbeth’s jaw hardened. “King Irvine’s wife. Elaine Cruinn.” Her words were clipped. “It is said that only a Cruinn can sit on the High Throne—the Heart of the Lake. Elaine is a Cruinn in name only.”
“I have heard this name before. Cruinn.” Rian brushed his thumb over his lip. “Your brother is mated to a Cruinn.”
“Maeve,” Elsbeth answered. “She is his Shíorghrá.”
“Your brother mated an Undine.”
“Maeve saved my life.” She snapped.
“Do my questions bother you?”
“Yes.” Elsbeth hissed. “I’ve never met someone who asked as many questions as a gossiping mare.”
Rian’s impassive mask broke, his eyes wide as a shocked chuckle escaped his lips. He seemed as surprised by the outburst as she was.
A moment passed, and neither one spoke.
Elsbeth reached for her cup and took a sip, eying the strange Kelpie over the rim of her glass.
“I cannot speak for my herd.” Rian looked down at the place setting, adjusting the plate to line up with the utensils.
“But I will fight for the Reeds. I owe your brother a kindness. I owe Maeve Cruinn more. She faced the Dark King for the sake of our freedom. If someone must rule the Undine, I would prefer it be someone who thinks of Kelpies as more than entertainment.”
“You’ve decided to stay then?” Elsbeth blinked.
Rian Swiftgait did not answer the question. “I have several enchantments in mind to shore up the wards. The wards—”
Elsbeth nodded, struggling to pay attention to his words as the kelpie’s face grew more animated than she had ever seen it.
It seemed there was more to Rian Swiftgait after all.